Haze
by Falkrem
Summary: Third time's a charm. Mikiryu.


A/N: It's customary for teachers to switch in and out of classrooms in Japan, so that's why I made him her last period teacher in this. If I remember correctly, graduation is somewhere around March? Spring, that is. Which is why there are the stereotypical cherry blossoms, sorry. I think the subtitle of this one-shot should be 'In Which Ryuuko and Aikurou Search for Something in Each Other's Eyes'.

* * *

"Matoi, I'd like to speak with you for a bit."

Ryuuko set down her textbooks on a nearby desk. Her teacher was standing in front of the desk, gathering the mess of papers that flew in the frenzy.

He turned around, and she picked up a paper, handing it to him. Her heart skipped a beat when his blue eyes stared into her own. Red flushed across her face but he seemed not to notice.

"You've done better on your test scores," he remarked, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," she muttered, the floor tiles taking her interest. This compliment lifted her spirits, knowing it was from him.

"How are you on your other subjects?" Her spirits fell.

"I've been…working on them." She tried to quell his question. His smile disappeared.

"I'm always available for tutoring after school," he suggested, his eyes searching for something in hers. She knew she couldn't count on Mako to help her with school, always sleeping through class. She nodded, squeaked out a thanks, and ran out of the classroom.

He ran a hand through his hair, smiling again. _'This girl…'_ he thought, staring out the window, watching her rush off to meet with her best friend.

* * *

"Matoi, could I see you for a bit?"

Those words made her heart palpitate rapidly.

"Go on ahead," she told Mako, "I'll meet you back at the clinic." The brown-haired girl nodded and dashed off, hoping to catch the next tram. Ryuuko tried to make herself comfortable on one of the front desks, crossing her ankles as she waited for her teacher to talk. On the outside, she was calm and collected; on the inside, not so much.

"What it is, Teach?"

He leaned back against the front of his desk, his hands lightly gripping the edges. She couldn't tell what he was thinking behind those shades.

"Your grades have dropped," her heart sank when she heard this, "and you still haven't taken up my offer." She blushed at the last part of his sentence.

"I-I-I've been busy. Helping out. Doing chores. Helping out," she stammered.

"You said 'helping out' twice," he pointed out, his mouth twisting into another small smile.

Her cheeks burned. He took a step toward her, her legs stiffened. His fingers brushed a hair out of her face, his eyes searching for something again.

She jumping off the desk, pushing him aside, and zoomed out the door. If anyone in the Mankanshoku household asked why her face was red, she'd tell them she skipped the tram and sprinted all the way home.

* * *

He didn't ask her to stay for class this time–he had no need to. She had her history textbook open on her desk, Aikurou sitting at his desk. An unsettling silence stretched out between the two.

This was an act of courage on her part; she made it her goal to accept his offer, at least for one afternoon. She flipped through her textbook nonchalantly, glancing up every so often at the man at the front of the room. Their eyes suddenly locked.

"Do you need help with something?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm having trouble with math."

He raised an eyebrow, seeing her mathematics textbook untouched by the leg of her desk. Aikurou walked toward her and pulled up a chair. She held her breath at his proximity.

"Matoi, this is your history textbook."

Her face was red.

"I-I know that! I also need help on history."

He smirked, humoring her.

"Alright, then. Are you also having trouble with anatomy?"

She didn't think it possible for her face to burn this much. He was too close–she could see his tie sway from the slight breeze coming through the open window, his light blue eyes barely visible through those shades.

She wanted him to hold her in his arms. _NO!_ she told herself, face still burning. It wasn't normal to feel this way toward an authoritative figure, was it?

"Matoi, if you don't pay attention, I'll have to _make_ you pay attention."

Her lips were met by his, tight but not uncomfortable fingers gripping her chin. His tongue slipped into her mouth and that was when she pulled away, out of breath, staring at him. _What was he thinking?_

His eyes searched again, wondering about her. _What were her feelings for him?_

"Mikisugi-san," she began quietly, the voice barely above a whisper, "was that part of the lesson?"

He grinned. This girl amused him to no end.

"If you want it to be."

* * *

During her third year at Honnouji Academy, Ryuuko had never felt this way toward anyone, especially of the opposite sex. Every day since then, she'd anticipate their meetings after class. Imagining, daydreaming–sometimes her mind would wander off toward steamier thoughts, and the brightness of her blush indicated this. She'd stammer, face red, every time he called on her. It was unfair, how oblivious he looked during class.

He'd practice with her, this subject of kissing, and she got better–more thorough, more readily. Her worst fear was that a student or faculty member would walk in on them. But that only seemed to heighten their passion.

"I'll meet you at my apartment," he whispered into her ear before their practice got out of hand.

Their tutoring sessions lasted longer and longer as the days went by. Whenever any member of the Mankanshoku family asked about her whereabouts at 7 in the evening, she'd reply, "I went to get groceries," holding up a bag of fish, meat, and apples. She was glad they probed no further.

Lying on his sofa, gasping for air when their lips parted, she wrapped her arms around his neck, his own arms on either side of her. With his shades off, she saw him in his vulnerability, able to see his eyes taking her in. Sometimes she'd stare into his undisguised eyes, searching for something.

She wondered if he'd always felt this way about her.

He'd whisper into her ear, chanting her name over and over. It was as if her existence supported his own. She'd run her fingers through his hair, observing its unique color change with the afternoon sun's rays. His eyes showed his helplessness, his need, his desire.

A smile spread across her face, amused by this role reversal. _When did the student become the teacher?_

* * *

She arrived home at 8, 9, 10 at night, and her family went about their business without questioning her. She felt something strange pierce her heart, as if they weren't worried about her. As if they didn't care.

Mako's enthusiasm was still there. Matarou was always snickering to his buddies. Their mother cooked and cleaned and did the laundry as usual. Their father continued his work at the clinic. Nothing seemed out of the norm, except for their nonchalance toward Ryuuko.

Aikurou kissed her lips, her cheeks, her neck. He could tell she was distracted by something, her discouragement during school and practice. Finally, he sat up on his knees, her legs between his. His tie was draped over his shoulders, his shirt half-buttoned.

He wasn't sure how to respond to her reluctance.

"Doushita no?" he asked, Ryuuko staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I have to go home," she insisted at last, still staring. The sun was still filtering in, high in the sky. It hadn't set.

She pulled out from under him, gathering her textbooks from his desk, and hurried out the door without another word.

He didn't ask why.

Mako greeted Ryuuko in front of the clinic, surprised that her friend was home so early. "Tadaima," her mother and father said at the same time, Matarou asking Ryuuko if she knew any girls that would be interested in him. She flung a textbook toward him, feigning joy at their welcoming.

Something tightened in her throat. _It wasn't fair!_ When she was with her family, she wanted to be with her teacher. When she was with her teacher, she wanted to be with her family.

Desperately, she wished she could have both.

* * *

She stopped going to his apartment, instead taking the late tram home.

He didn't ask why.

When she went to tutoring after school, she acted as if their relationship was nothing more than teacher and student.

He didn't ask why.

Her family continued to welcome her with enthusiasm, but on the inside she was miserable.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

He didn't ask why, and it enraged her.

Class ended, and she stood with her books in her arms. Aikurou was busy cleaning the day's lesson off the chalkboard. Then he turned his head, glancing at her through his shades. Her heart skipped a beat, remembering what they shared. She slammed her books on his desk.

"Is something the matter, Mat–"

Quickly, she leaned over, grasped his tie, and pulled him in for a kiss–all those months of pent-up desire flowing through. He gasped when she pulled away, an indignant look on her face. His eyes continued to search.

"Ryuuko," she stated firmly, still gripping his tie. He smiled, realizing she hadn't lost interest in him. It pained him, seeing her leave his classroom each day without even a goodbye. He wanted to return that kiss with equal, if not more, passion.

"I love you," she forced out in one rushed breath and her eyes seemed to penetrate through his shades, daring him to tell her otherwise.

His look of shock turned into one of endearment.

"I love you, too, Ryuuko Matoi."

Her face finally blushed, exposing her relief. She grasped his tie like a child holding onto a parent's shirt. She glanced up at him and she noticed he had removed his shades.

"In fact," he stated, eyes no longer searching, "I'm _in_ love with you."

* * *

The days continued to pass, Ryuuko secretly happy with the words he had said. Graduation approached and once the ceremony was over, Mako tackled Ryuuko to the ground. "We survived!" she'd yell excitedly, holding Ryuuko's hands in hers. She laughed, sharing her friend's joy.

Their mother, father, and younger brother cheered. Apparently, Mako wasn't the only one surprised they had made it to graduation.

Mako ran off to greet their family, leaving Ryuuko alone as the blossoms fell. She felt a hand on her shoulder–and knew who it was without a doubt. He leaned over and whispered into her ear, causing her face to turn as pink as the blossoms.

_"Would you like to pick up where we last left off?"_


End file.
